


Birds to the Nest

by theskywasblue



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Families of Choice, Introspection, M/M, Parting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-05
Updated: 2010-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue





	Birds to the Nest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [7veilsphaedra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/7veilsphaedra/gifts).



"I think we should talk about this."

Tamaki looked small, and very young, sitting at the foot of Kyoya's bed, against the bland whiteness of bleached bed sheets. The serious knit of his brow was almost comical; he looked like a child learning to read, trying to puzzle out a new series of words or a certain turn of phrase.

"And you think this is something that we actually need to talk about?"

"Well we haven't talked -- at all -- you just decided..."

He made it sound so cut and dried, as if anything about school or the course of his life had ever been something Kyoya was permitted to _decide_. There were certain obligations he was required to fulfill in order to play the role of the good son, and this was simply one of them. It didn't matter if he felt -- no, he knew -- that he was already prepared to handle any responsibility that the Ootori family could place on his shoulders. He had to jump through one more hoop, and probably another after that.

And it wasn't as if Tamaki didn't have intimate acquaintance with those kinds of family responsibilities himself.

Kyoya thought it was a little unfair that Tamaki - who came along much later, inserted himself into everything as if he belonged there, with no regard to the fact that he actually _doesn't_ belong much of anywhere - should think that what they had was a binding contract, even when it clearly was not.

"Okay," there was the softest _whumph_ as Tamaki flopped backwards onto the bed, stretching his arms out above his head, idly reaching for the smooth wood of headboard as his eyes studied the ceiling, "this is how it's supposed to go...you say 'of course we can talk mommy' and I tell you all the things that I don't like about this..."

"Don't you think that this mommy and daddy thing is getting a little old, Tamaki?"

"I'm projecting," Tamaki said, with all his characteristic lightness, his hand making a vague, fluttering motion in the air like a bird about to crash into a windowpane, "mimicking. I'm Tamaki the parrot."

With his endless chatter, it wasn't hard to picture. It was true, too, that all those years Tamaki had been trying to create a tangible...something. A makeshift family headed by an eccentric patriarch and a stern but patient mother. They had managed well enough, despite their innate dysfunction; but then the children grew up, and all that was left was empty-nest syndrome.

"Alright," Kyoya pulled closed the zip on his suitcase and stepped to the edge of his bed, looking down at Tamaki, who looked past him almost as if he didn't exist. The look of defeat he wore was distractingly familiar. "If it will stop you from wearing that pathetic, kicked dog look, we can talk about...this."

Tamaki blinked – a slow cascade of blonde lashes – and said, "It's alright. You'll come back."

It had too much confidence to be a question. He had already written it into their contract, probably, and Kyoya couldn't make himself object.

-End-


End file.
